"Who's going to stay here?" asked Chub before he pushed off the boat. Four boys answered.
"Well, you fellows keep a watch for Hammond. They'll be paddling over here pretty soon, probably to-day or to-morrow, to see where we're keeping the boats. If they come around don't let them see you, but watch what they do."
The quartette promised eagerly to keep a sharp lookout and Chub and Roy dipped their oars and rowed across to the landing.
When they returned at five o'clock the two four-oared crews were just coming back up-stream to the boat-house, looking as though they had been through a hard afternoon's work. Behind them came Mr. Buckman in his scull, his small brown megaphone hanging from his neck. Across the darkening water they could just make out the three Hammond boats floating downstream toward their quarters.
"Who'll win this year?" asked Roy, as they took up the rowing again.
"Hammond, I guess," answered Chub. "They usually do. They did last year. You see they've got almost a hundred fellows to pick from, while we have never had over fifty. That makes a difference."
"Two years ago, though," said Bacon, "they say our crew was thirty seconds faster than theirs. And we were light, too. I don't believe the size of the school has much to do with it."
"Well, it stands to reason that the school that has the most fellows must have the better material," said Chub. "Look at the way it is in baseball."
"That may be," said Bacon, "but a whole lot depends on the spirit of the fellows and the coaching."
"Course it does, but no matter what the spirit is, or how good the coaching may be, four poor oarsmen can't beat four good ones. That's common sense."